


Tales from the Unknown Regions

by Shelaar (JonathanAnubian)



Series: Plot Bunnies [11]
Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Creepy, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Demons, Force Suppression (Star Wars), Gen, Halloween, Horror, If you want to write a Tale go for it, Kidnapping, Obsession, Outer Space, Possession, Self-Sacrifice, Short Stories, Suicide, Voice Mimicry, Vomiting, collaborative
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26768527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonathanAnubian/pseuds/Shelaar
Summary: Short horror stories for the GFFA.AN:Read the Tags!If Any of them make you uncomfortable then don't read this fic.
Relationships: Boba Fett & Jango Fett
Series: Plot Bunnies [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1384588
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	1. The Escape Pod

Yawning as he walked toward the cockpit of the XS stock light freighter, called the Pontifex, Javert DuPonti, smuggler extraordinaire, cradled his mug of caf against his chest. It was the wee hours of the cycle and he was not looking forward to sitting in a cold cockpit alone for the next six or so hours. Not when he could be back in his bunk, blissfully unawares, bundled up in his nice heated blanket. Taking a swig of near scalding caf he passed by the hatch to the single escape pod and froze when he heard a metallic clang. Looking back over his shoulder in confusion he shrugged when nothing happened and took another step toward his destination.

"...help." A shiver ran down his spine and he whipped around, one hand trailing down to his blaster. Dark eyes scouring the corridor, body tense, he took a few steps back toward the escape pod, craning his neck to try and see if there was anything amiss. A banging on the escape pod door next to him made him jump, dropping his caf.

"Karking son of a Hutt!" He cursed as hot liquid splashed onto his pant leg. Thankfully the mug didn't shatter. Just bounced, spinning slightly, before hitting the wall and coming to a stop.

"J-Javert? Javert is that you?" Whipping his head up he blinked in confusion. The voice was familiar to him.

"Who's there?" There was a tapping on the escape pod door, as if in response to his question.

"Javert, help me! I'm stuck inside and the lock isn't working." As the words began to register he finally placed the voice and let out another curse.

"Ry'lani? How the kriff did you end up in there?" Ignoring the mess on the cold plating beneath his feet he stepped up to the escape pod door and looked down at the control pad. He knew that Francoeur had been fiddling with the systems the other day, trying to get rid of a lighting bug, but he didn't think the Duros engineer would have touched the escape pod. It was their sole means of survival if the Pontifex ever gave up the ghost.

"J-just open the door, please? I'm so cold." Frowning, feeling as if something wasn't quite right, he glanced at the door then back at the control pad.

"Javert? What the hell is this all over the floor? I thought you were going to relieve Francoeur in the cockpit?" Turning toward Ry'lani his eyes widened and face paled, finger a mere breath away from the release button. There was another bang against the door and he jumped backward, away from the control panel. "What the kriff was that!?" The twi'lek sharpshooter asked, grabbing her own blaster and pointing it toward the door.

"Javert? Don't leave me, it's so cold out here. Javert?" Ry'lani's expression looked much like his own, mouth open in surprise and eyes wide.

"J-Javert? Is this s-some kind of joke? Did Francoeur put you up to this?" Frantically he shook his head, stepping even farther away from the door. The banging was getting louder now, the sound of something hard scraping against the inside of the escape pod, making a horrible screech.

"Javert? You open this door! JAVERT!" The screeching was getting louder now, and so was the voice. He covered his ears, ducking his head in fear even as his back hit the far wall. Ry'lani gripped her blaster tight and strode over to the door. Looking back at him once, grimly, she slammed her hand down on the control pad.

The door slid open.


	2. Buir

Falling out of bed Jango’s body spasmed as phantom pain wracked through him. Turning over, onto his front, he felt the rolling wave of burning pain in his chest and throat before he convulsed and vomited all over the floor. Choking back bile he tried to take a breath but found himself once again emptying his stomach. It felt as if he was throwing up his own stomach and intestines besides. His stomach cramped and lungs ached with a burning need for oxygen. When he was finally able to gasp for breath he shoved himself away from the mess and lay on his side, shivering uncontrollably as if he were detoxing a heavy drug. Small sobs wracked his body as flashes of pain, horror, and grief drove into his mind, like millions of tiny needles.

Crushed by falling rocks, burned alive in a crashed transport, riddled with blaster fire, drowning, electrocution, an insect crawling around behind his eyes, sucked out into space, suffocating, frozen, eaten alive, shot in the back by people he trusted, and worse yet- the downward slash of a red lightsaber. Hundreds, thousands, millions of deaths. There was only one thing that connected them all, one glaring detail that stuck with him.

His face.

It was his face over and over again, as if someone had copied him a million times only to kill him in the most brutal ways imaginable.

Who in the galaxy hated him that much? Or was it the galaxy itself? There was no way this was the Manda, where he would be met by those who had marched on ahead of him. No… this had to be something else.

“Ad’ika?” A worried voice called from another room. Jango stilled. There were only three people in his entire life who had called him that. Only two of them were male. He tried to make his mouth work, to call out, but the tremors and the feeling he might throw up again made him swallow whatever sound he might have made.

A solid form entered from the hallway, the bright light almost blinding and obscuring the details. A warm hand reached down to brush his hair away from his face. “Shh, we’ll get this mess cleaned up. You’ll be okay.” Jango frowned. The voice was so familiar but it was not Jaster. Everything was hazy and it was as if his ears were filled with cotton. The phantom pains still flickered through him, making him twitch and want to cry out. Protective arms reached out and gathered him up, holding him protectively against a beskar clad chest.

“Come on ad’ika.” Closing his eyes as they went out into the hallway, the light was still too much for him, he felt the man gently set him down on a counter. A cool cloth was placed against his feverish skin and he sighed in relief. Finally feeling as if he could open his eyes he blinked away the spots and looked up at the adult taking care of him.

Jango froze in horror as a man with his face smiled down at him. “Everything will be okay now, Boba. Buir's here.”


	3. Mirror

Sitting at her vanity she carefully pulls out the pins holding her hair, letting the long brown locks curl over her shoulders. Humming a tune from her childhood she carefully wipes off the make-up she’d been wearing to the soiree she’d attended earlier as the Senator of Naboo. It was nice to just be able to sit down and relax after talking to people she found morally detestable all night. Maybe she’ll indulge and take a long bath, have a glass of wine. She had a new holonovel she’d been wanting to read.

The door to the room opened and her body froze as Anakin walked inside with a bright smile. Her body relaxed and she smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror. Striding across the carpet he came to lean over her and kissed her cheek. “Hello my lovely wife.” She let out a happy sigh and her head turned so she could accept a real kiss. “How was today?”

“I spoke with some of the new ambassadors. A few of them were quite stubborn but I think I made a few connections tonight. How about you?” The man watched her, his eyes glowing faintly in the low light.

“I finished my usual duties and hurried home to you, Threepio said dinner is ready. Hey! Why don’t we go out somewhere tomorrow, incognito? We haven’t spent enough time together lately.” Smiling she placed her hand on his and he helped her out of her chair.

“That sounds wonderful Ani, we’ll make plans early tomorrow.” As the two of them walked out of the room she took one last look at the vanity.

Padme slammed her fists against the glass, watching in despair as the creature wearing her skin smiled sweetly and followed Anakin out, closing the door behind her.


	4. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I upped the rating for this one. Read at your own peril!

“…and that’s when Wheezer choked on his caf and nearly spat it out all over the lieutenant.” Laughter filled the small pocket where CT-5943 sat back to back with his vod. They’d been trapped in the wreck of a ship for… force he doesn’t know how long. The two of them had slept in shifts, sitting upright and waiting for rescue. The air was getting a little thin but without sight the only way to reassure one another was to tell stories. CT-5943 shivered slightly and held his knees closer to his chest. He wondered if he would be able to see his breath if the lights were on.

“There’s not enough air for both of us. We’re not going to be rescued.” He shook his head.

“Come on, vod, don’t think like that! We’re going to be rescued. Our Jedi will come looking, you know they always do.” There was a sigh.

“I know. But… just in case… tell Vindo that I’m sorry.” CT-5943 scowled.

“You tell him yourself. We’re going to survive this!” There was no reply but he felt the warmth of a hand reaching down to clutch his.

“Yeah.” There was silence for a moment. “Hey, vod, do me a favor?” He frowned.

“What do you need?”

“Sing for me? We all know you’re the best at it, Kin said you should name yourself Laarimar or something, and I need a distraction.” He let out a small chuckle, feeling better with the reminder that their brothers were both on a different transport.

“Okay, vod. Maybe if I’m loud enough they’ll hear me outside anyway.” He heard an answering chuckle but it sounded closer to a sob.

He chose to ignore it.

“Kote!” He began.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there in the quiet darkness, holding onto his brother’s hand as they both grew colder and the air grew thinner.

Just as his voice began to crack and his throat felt raw there was a rumble and a spark of light off to his left. A beam of green light pierced the darkness and he had to cover his eyes as a large hole was sheared into the metal blocking their exit.

“Vod! We’re being rescued!” He didn’t have the strength to move so he just gripped Toma’s hand tighter and let out an almost hysterical laugh of relief.

The slab of metal was ripped away from the wall and light spilled into the pocket, along with a shockingly cold breath of fresh air.

The Chagrian Jedi stepped inside, looking down at him with kind eyes. They held out their hand for him and he reached up to take it gratefully.

“ Told you, vod, I said we’d be rescued!” The General frowned at him in concern.

“Trooper, who are you talking to?” Startled he blinked in confusion.

“Trooper Toma, Sir. He’s right here.” In fact, the man hadn’t even let go of his hand.

“Oh, force…” Seeing where the General was looking he turned back to his vod and froze.

“T-Toma? Hey, Vod? You, no, come on- this has to be a joke!” He choked, eyes locked on the sight before him.

Staring up at him from where he’d fallen over was his squad brother, vacant eyes unblinking. His armor was stained red from the neck down, the vibroblade still clutched tightly in his other hand.


	5. Dinner Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm not sorry._

Sitting down to a dinner with Satine was a little awkward after all these years apart but without any guards in the room, hers or his own, he watched her finally begin to relax. “I remembered that these were some of your favourites and asked the chefs to make them upon your arrival.” He flushed slightly, pleased that she had remembered something as simple as his favourite dishes.

“Thank you, Satine. It’s been far too long since I’ve had any of these.” She smiled and poured him some wine.

“Go on, don’t stand on ceremony for me.” Her laugh was light and he couldn’t help but to chuckle along. Digging into the first dish, a spiced meat in sauce over grains, he hummed in pleasure and savored the taste before washing it down with the wine.

“It truly is wonderful to spend time with you again, Satine. I know that with the war on you can’t be seen to have too close a relationship with the Jedi or the Republic but… I am glad you allowed my men and I into Sundari.” Taking another sip of wine he watched her face become pained for a moment.

“It is truly awful just how they’ve been treating you. I know you’re very capable but sometimes you push yourself too hard.” He felt a small twinge of guilt seeing the worry on her face and feeling it echoed in the force. “The Republic shouldn’t have forced the Jedi into this position. Taking on an army of Clones?” He frowned slightly, setting his glass back on the table. There was an edge to her voice now and he could feel her budding anger. He let out a small sigh.

“Satine, I don’t want… t-to… arg-u-e…?” The room swam and he shook his head to try and clear it. The alcohol wasn’t all that strong he shouldn’t be feeling dizzy like this.

“Oh, finally. You’ve always been so stubborn Obi dearest.” Falling forward he felt Satine’s hand against his chest before she gently pushed him back in his chair. Her hand slipped up to his hair, brushing it aside lovingly. He tried to speak but his tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth. Fumbling for his belt he suddenly remembered the stipulation that he leave his lightsaber with a guard at the door if he wanted to have dinner alone with the Duchess.

Another presence entered the room and came closer. He tried to force his limbs to move but Satine pressed him down firmly. “Shh, it’s alright dear. Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’ll make sure you never have to fight ever again. No more playing soldier, no more getting wounded, no more missing meals or sleep. You can just stay here with me and be the kind, gentle, man I fell in love with.”

Her words barely registered as something cold slid across his neck and clicked into place. With a sudden horror he realized he had been cut off from the force, although he could still feel its presence in the back of his mind. “There we are.” Satine stood, though she kept her hand against his chest. “Help the future Duke into something more suitable for resting and call the doctor. I want a complete exam so we know how to best heal him from his injuries.” He blinked blearily as she turned back to press her lips to his forehead. “Sleep, Obi-wan. This is for your own good.”

With a tiny whimper he felt the sharp pinch of a hypo against his neck before the world faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Satine the Yandere is something that an Anon requested. I hope it turned out okay!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave me some horror Themes in the comments!


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